The Last Light
by A Amelia Black
Summary: Stephanie Brown has always had an untold story, one we’ve only caught glimpses of. This story will delve more into who she really was, what made her Spoiler, Robin, and ultimately Batgirl, and how her death changed everything. CANON
1. Prologue

_**Disclaimer:**__**All characters, storylines, etc are property of DC Comics. Be warned that spoilers will follow and there may be some uncomfortable details described in the chapters ahead. Adequate warning will be given.**_

_**Author's Note:**__** To me, Stephanie Brown has always had that untold story. The one you catch glimpses of, but never really delve into. We continue to learn more, but who was she, really? So she wasn't super strong or super intelligent. What was important was her heart, and her determination, and following through with what she believed to be the right course. Sure she was stubborn; I think we all have been in our lives. But the events leading up to her death at the hands of Black Mask, how did they shape her? Now that she's returned officially, taking up the role of Batgirl, how much has she changed?**_

_**The following story centers around the events that lead up to her death, and is one consisting of significant events in her life, ones that will delve more into who Stephanie Brown really was, what made her Spoiler, Robin, and ultimately Batgirl, yet she always kept true to herself. Each chapter will be another point of her life, a significant event.**_

_**Your feedback and comments are greatly appreciated and most welcomed. : -)**_

_**Thank you.**_

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_Give me a reason to believe that you're gone  
I see your shadow so I know they're all wrong  
Moonlight on the soft brown earth  
It leads me to where you lay  
They took you away from me but now I'm taking you home_

_I will stay forever here with you  
My love  
The softly spoken words you gave me  
Even in death our love goes on_

_Some say I'm crazy for my love, Oh my love  
But no bonds can hold me from your side, Oh my love  
They don't know you can't leave me  
They don't hear you singing to me_

_And I can't love you, anymore than I do_

_ - Evanescence "Even in Death"_

_**The Last Light**_

_**Prologue**_

_Am I scared?_

_Of course I am. No one wants to die. Not really._

_The pain I feel now fades as the last light appears before me. The pain in my shoulder from where he shot me. _

_The pain from the hours and hours I hung there, suspended by chains, subject to Black Mask's torture._

_Is that where I'll go? Into that light? Do I deserve to?_

_I don't want to go. I don't want to leave Tim. _

_But maybe it's time. _

_I screwed up enough in this world. Think God would forgive me? I wouldn't. _

_Messed up childhood? No kidding! Wouldn't you if your dad was a third-rate criminal?_

_I already failed as Robin. Apparently not good enough._

_I had to prove my worth. I just wanted to prove that I could be Robin. That I could be part of that legacy._

_Will Tim miss me when I'm gone? Will Bruce? Or will they be glad to get rid of me? Did I fail them completely? _

_I just wanted to make the world a better place. A safer place. A place where kids wouldn't have to have the childhood I had. _

_There's that light again. Am I going?_

There were two completely different worlds.

One was outside, where the sun was attempting to shine through the clouds that hovered above Gotham City. There was never really any sunshine in Gotham, a reddish hue always seemingly blanketing the tall, metallic, stone city. An ominous feeling filled the citizens of Gotham, yet they had no way to pinpoint exactly why. Different smells wafted through the streets lined with cars, some with broken windows in the shadier areas of the city, and others that were shiny and new closer to where the richer citizens lived. The smells were fouler in these darker areas, traced back to the sewers that could be reached by various access points. The areas where smart people didn't venture unless they had a death wish, and the few citizens who did walk the sidewalks moved quickly and kept their faces hidden in coat collars or heads covered by hats. The gang war had wrecked devastation upon the city. The clocktower lay in ruins, just a heap of rubble after the massive explosions that had ripped it apart. The vigilantes who had helped save so many lives were gone now, leaving the police to sift through what was left.

The lower life of Gotham, those who survived only on stealing, murdering, and corruption, they remained in the even darker areas, the areas between buildings, and the areas Gotham's finest tended to visit more often. Trash littered the streets and walkways, windows were broken out of buildings and other buildings were almost completely boarded up. Not more than a few blocks away from this dangerous area was a massive park that covered the heart of Gotham, a park that was not safe once the red light faded, with a few homeless people sleeping on benches or beneath bridges that arched over canals nearby. A mother played with her son near a playground where several other children and their parents were, looking happy despite the steady decline of the city around them. That was a childhood that could never happen for some. A childhood that was out of reach and pushed out of mind for so many of Gotham's vigilantes. Something worth fighting for in one vigilante's mind, a girl who had vowed not to let other children have to grow up with what she had to, but that would come to an end.

The second was inside, where death and despair hovered in the air. Dr. Leslie Thompkin's clinic, where so many lives were saved, yet the one lying on the bed now would not be so lucky. The air was sterile and only contained the slightest scent of someone's lunch that had been served down the hall in another dark-paneled room. Nearly everything was a mixture of the dark panels and gleaming white and silver, from the walls of the room, to the tiled floor, to the last machine that was connected to the young blonde girl who lay covered up to her chest in a white sheet. This machine was the only thing proving that she was alive, the steady beep of her heart rate continuing, but it wouldn't be for much longer. A few more minutes at most.

Her features were calm, thanks to the large amounts of painkillers that pumped through her veins, despite the dark purple and red bruises that covered the majority of her body. Broken bones had been set, but the internal bleeding continued, the damage too great. Most of the bruises hidden under yards and yards of blood-stained bandages that bound the young girl's ribs, arms, legs, and head. These bandages had been placed to protect the jagged cuts, stab wounds, and gunshot wound in her left shoulder that still had yet to heal. Smaller bandages had been placed over smaller cuts, mostly on her face, a face of a girl who many, especially her high school teachers, would never have thought could have been associated with the vigilante who now sat next to her.

Most people who had heard of the Batman or who had actually seen him would never have thought he could be emotional. He dealt justice swiftly and locked away Gotham's most dangerous villains. He appeared to be virtually emotionless, almost like a statue where nothing seemed to have an effect on him. Even when he had swept into the clinic, after an urgent call from Leslie, his features were stony and his voice gruff.

Except this. Except now.

He sat next to the bed, his face in his hands, raw emotion wrenching through him, not wanting to see what his failure had cost him. She had had a full life ahead of her, and now that would never be realized. He had felt pain before and he was no stranger to it, but this time it was as if the flood gates had opened, crashing through the dam that had once been impenetrable. He was alone with the heart-wrenching pain and anger that threatened to consume him, emotions that he had barely controlled around the people in the waiting room and Leslie.

Perhaps there was medicine out there that could have saved her but that treatment would not happen here. Leslie Thompkins was one of his true friends, someone who had attended medical school with his father, one who knew who he really was beneath the mask, as well as Gotham's other vigilantes. She had been there the night his parents had died, and had since opened up her own free medical clinic to help those in need. Leslie had done what she could to help save Stephanie, but there was no more that could be done. Once again he was unable to do anything to save someone who was important to him. It was as if the night when his parents had died was happening all over again, except this time he was the adult watching a young girl die because he hadn't been there to help her. She had been so tough, stubborn, and so full of spirit and life. Despite what she had gone through, she always had time for a smile, and while she wasn't the most dependable person or a very good sidekick or good at following orders, she fought for what she believed in, and her determination had pulled her through so many rough spots in her life. Now she lay there, pale as the sheets that surrounded her, save for the discoloration of the injuries she had suffered at the hands of the villain Black Mask. Injured to the point of death and he could do nothing.

While he was caught up in his own thoughts, Stephanie was drifting in and out of consciousness, unsure as to what was real or was was surreal. She had heard the footsteps, so faint to her ears. It seemed as if sounds were softer now, fading just like the light that was just at the edge of her vision. She opened her eyes slightly. It hurt to open them, the bruises swelling them mostly shut. Her blue eyes met his. Batman's. He was there, he had come. There he was, sitting at the beside, pain visible in his features, features that were so often cold and impassive. Only those who really knew him could tell the difference; could tell when he really was feeling something. She didn't know what to say or think. She hadn't expected him to come, not after she had failed him so miserably. After she had brought destruction to Gotham.

This was one of those moments where no words were spoken, but every possibly emotion that could be felt embraced the two individuals alone in that hospital room. Pain, loss, acceptance, fear, anger...

"Batman?"

Her voice was but a whisper, pain apparent in her voice, both mentally and physically. To her the pain from her wounds still ached and she couldn't move more than a small amount without feeling something twinge and send white-hot stakes of fire shooting through her body. But that pain was nothing compared to the worry, the feeling that she had let Batman down, and that she had failed in bringing Black Mask to justice, failing to save Orpheus' life, a man who had been cut down in front of her.

"Shhh, you shouldn't try to speak Stephanie. You need to save your strength."

Yes. It really was him; she could hear his voice, spoken quietly but still there. Was he angry with her? She could see him there, just barely, even as she shut her eyes to continue to speak. She had to make sure no one else took the blame for what she had done. If it was the one of the last things she did, she wanted to make sure Batman knew she was sorry, for everything.

"But I screwed up so bad. It was me. All me. I started this war."

"I know, but there's no need to worry about it now. We took care of – "

His words barely registered with her as she cut him off. He had been right all along. Could she do nothing right anymore?

"You were right to fire me. I'm such an idiot." She swallowed slightly, the pain a faint reminder of the suffering her body had gone through. Stephanie forced her eyes open ever so slightly so she could look him in the eyes. The man she had wanted to prove her worth to; the legend she had hoped to be a part of, and in the end had let down. Even Tim…she had let him down. She felt tears trickle out of the corner of her eyes as her features grew sad. "Does Tim hate me?"

"No, of course not. He adores you. Always has."

She felt a small measure of relief in Batman's words, her eyes watching as his lips moved when he spoke, the hard lines that so often defined him beginning to soften as he sat there, speaking with her. What else had she not told him? Was there anything else that she wanted to make sure he knew before…yes…before that light came for her. It was so close, she could almost feel it, almost see it right there on the edge of her vision. It was calling to her, but she didn't want to go, not yet! Her daughter needed taken care of. She had to make sure she would be okay.

"I have a baby. Did you know that? She's not mine anymore but – "

"Don't worry, Stephanie. She'll never want for anything, I promise."

His words were soothing and she felt herself relax once again, but not fully. No, there was still one more question she had to ask. One more question she needed the answer to. Everything was beginning to go darker, to grow dimmer, and she felt so tired. It was difficult to keep her eyes open, but she did, because she had to know. She had to know if he thought she had failed him, because that failure tore through her heart. She had wanted to be Robin so badly, to fight alongside Batman and be part of that vision, helping to make Gotham a place where children could grow up without fear. But had it been a lie? She whispered her next words, almost tentatively, pain still creeping its way through every nerve of her body, despite the medication she had been put on.

"Batman?"

"I'm still here. I'm not going anywhere."

She heard his voice, although her vision was beginning to blur ever so slightly. The voice that could have such a hard edge, but was soft now, reassuring.

"When you let me be Robin…it wasn't just some kind of trick, was it? A way to get Tim to come back? Or your way to show me I wasn't cut out for the job?"

"Stephanie, I – "

Her words came out slowly, and even as he spoke, she continued. She had to know, if nothing else, his answer to her final question.

"Was any of it real? Was I ever really Robin?"

"Of course you were."

A soft smile appeared upon her lips, despite the amount of effort that it took to form that slight curve. She closed her eyes, whispering her words. "Good." It was all she had really needed to hear, that she had truly been a apart of it and had done something. It was all that mattered in the end, because everything leading up to this point, all the pain and torture and heartache, in the end she had still been Robin. "Then I was really part of it….part of the legend. Even if it was only for a little while. No matter what, no one can take that away."

"No matter what."

His words confirmed her thoughts and her own words, and finally she felt at peace. A warmness seemed to spread through her body and then it began to cool, but she felt so sleepy. She was quiet for a few moments, allowing his words to sink in, the words that meant the world to her, more than he would ever know.

"I think I need rest now…"

"You bet. I'll be here, watching over you."

She never heard his last words as the darkness crept through her mind, the pain fading as a cool sensation filled her body, her mind finally at ease, her heart beginning to slow, and then finally stop.

_They say your life flashes before your eyes as you die. _

_I think it's time…_

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_**I am interested in what you think!**_

_**If there's anything you'd like to see, please let me know.**_

_**Thank you for reading.**_


	2. Alone

_**Disclaimer:**__** All characters, storylines, etc are property of DC Comics. Be warned that spoilers will follow and there may be some uncomfortable details described in the chapters ahead. Adequate warning will be given.**_

_**Author's Note:**__** Thank you for your reviews! :) I think it's important that we see what fueled Stephanie's determination and her motivation for becoming Spoiler when she's older, and so I've delved a bit into the more unknown portions of her life in this chapter. The following chapter will focus on her childhood.**_

_**Enjoy!**_

_**Your feedback and comments are greatly appreciated and most welcomed. : -)**_

_**Thank you.**_

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_No I just don't understand why you  
won't talk to me it hurts that I'm  
so unwanted for nothing don't  
talk words against me_

_I wanted to know you  
I wanted to show you_

_  
You don't know me  
Don't ignore me  
You don't want me there  
You just shut me out  
You don't know me  
Don't ignore me  
If you had your way  
You'd just shut me up  
Make me go away_

_- Avril Lavigne "Unwanted"_

_**Approximately 8 years ago…**_

_**The Last Light**_

_**Chapter One – Alone**_

It was her tenth birthday and a major event in any child's life. It was the big two-digit number, and Stephanie had been looking forward to the day all year. Other kids at her school, East Gotham Elementary, had been boasting about their big day and what they were going to do on it: big parties, circus visits, amusement parks, the works. However, the longer she stood there in the hallway of her school, dark green lockers lining the walls and students mingling around in their crowds, the unhappier she got. However, there was always that small glimmer of hope that her dead-beat dad would actually show up, or that her mom would finally be alert enough to actually do something or stop taking all those pills. Sure, she had hopes, but her doubts were beginning to weigh them down. What had started out as an optimistic day was slowly starting to take a turn for the worse, especially when it started to rain outside, the reddish light of the sky blanketing the city with a drearier persona.

" – and they're supposed to have elephants, and giant clowns, and everything!" some boy was saying only a few feet from her.

"Man, that's gonna be sweet! You gotta see the lions too, I heard they're huge!" another boy replied.

Stephanie sat on a wooden bench, leaning her head back against the white-washed walls as she tried to tune out the conversations around her. Her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, and dressed in jeans that had worn-out knees, and a dark-red T-shirt with the words "Attitude is everything", Stephanie blended in with most of the rest of her classmates. The majority of the students that went to the school were from lower income families, and Stephanie was no stranger to being strapped for cash. Her dad was in prison more often than not as a result of yet another crime committed as the Cluemaster, a third-rate villain compared to the likes of the Joker or other famous villains that constantly caused trouble in Gotham, and her mom was always working, so Stephanie was almost constantly on her own. Her mom didn't make that much as a nurse and she was always on some kind of medication. Stephanie didn't understand why her mom took all those pills all the time and had come to the point where she just didn't want to think about it anymore.

The more she thought about what today was, the worse she felt, until finally she stood angrily and stormed right through the center of the boys' conversation, ignoring their protests. Stephanie weaved her way through the crowded hallway as other kids headed to lunch, and decided to skip lunch that day. She just didn't want to deal with hearing more conversations about how great anyone's upcoming birthday would be. It was just depressing. Stephanie turned down a more barren hallway, one that didn't have any of the dark green lockers that covered the majority of the walls in the school, and one that was empty of students. She passed by a glass case that held trophies from the school teams, pausing to look at last year's regional gymnastics champion trophy. She had won that one for the team, completing a very intense routine, and scoring the points that had put them over the edge. At least that was one good thing in her life. Between that and the martial arts classes that she took every week, they were the only things that kept her going. She couldn't count on her parents; they didn't really exist in her life. But it would get better. It had to. If she didn't keep that in mind, she wasn't going to get stronger.

_I don't blame Mom…she works really hard so that we have food and I can go to my martial arts classes. It's not her fault she takes all those meds all the time, its Dad's. The jerk! I hate him! I hate him for hurting Mom and me, and making us struggle just because he's always doing bad stuff and getting locked up. He's never been at any of my birthdays, he's never around cuz he's always in jail. He's ruining our lives and he doesn't even care! How many competitions have I had that I've won and done really good at? Neither of them are ever there, it's just not fair. _

"Stephanie?"

A voice broke through her angry thoughts, and Stephanie whirled around about to snap at whoever had said her name, when she saw it was Ms. Wheaton, one of her favourite teachers and the only one who didn't treat her like she was the daughter of a criminal. All the others, she could see it in their eyes, even if they didn't say anything. They thought she'd end up just like him. She just wanted to prove it to them; show them that she wouldn't be like that, but how? She was just a kid and powerless.

Stephanie didn't say anything, turning to look back at the glass case. She could see Ms. Wheaton's reflection in the glass, the dark curls that framed her concerned face, the black-rimmed glasses that made her look more like an adult, and the nice light-blue suit she was wearing. Stephanie bowed her head, scuffing the toe of her tennis shoe against the pale beige tiles. The toe of her shoe was already starting to wear down; she just hoped they would last a little while longer. Her mom didn't have the money to get her new ones.

"Skipping lunch?"

Stephanie was quiet for a few minutes but then shrugged. "I don't want to go."

Ms. Wheaton walked over and stood beside her for a moment before dropping to a knee. Stephanie could feel Ms. Wheaton's eyes on her and knew she couldn't avoid the conversation even if she really wanted to. She finally looked down at her teacher, her features forming into the expression similar to those of the sad angels that overlooked the streets from the roof of a nearby church. Stephanie had built up a wall around herself, to try and shield her emotions and feelings, but it never seemed to help. She often acted impulsively and angrily, but it was just because that was the only way she ever got through to people. She didn't like crying or showing weakness in front of anyone, but Ms. Wheaton always seemed to see right through her, like she was made of glass. Stephanie hated that.

"Why don't you come back with me to the math room? I was planning on eating my lunch there anyways, and I could use some company." Ms. Wheaton smiled at Stephanie and Stephanie found herself unable to really say no. Why couldn't she just say no? What made it so hard? She didn't know.

"Okay," said Stephanie after a minute and Ms. Wheaton smiled.

"Good."

Ms. Wheaton stood and then motioned for Stephanie to follow, making her way towards the classroom where she taught. They didn't speak as they walked through the halls and Stephanie was glad. When they finally reached the classroom, Ms. Wheaton pulled up a chair from one of the desks and placed it next to her chair. Stephanie's teacher took a seat, opening up the black lunch bag, and pulled out a sandwich and an apple. Stephanie never had a packed lunch. It was cheaper to be on the stamps, which gave her free lunch during the day because of the simple fact that her mom couldn't afford it. It was a new program, but a nice one. Before that, Stephanie would have been lucky to have even an apple for lunch. Ms. Wheaton held out the sandwich to Stephanie.

"Here."

Stephanie hesitated but Ms. Wheaton smiled in reassurance, and so Stephanie took the sandwich and sat down next to her teacher. She opened up the bag, taking out what looked like a turkey and cheese sandwich, and took a bite.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome Stephanie." Ms. Wheaton took a bit of her apple, leaning back in her chair. "How are gymnastics and martial arts going for you? You have a tournament coming up soon, right?"

Stephanie nodded, swallowing her food. It was nice to talk about something that wasn't her birthday. For some reason, Stephanie always felt comfortable around Ms. Wheaton. She didn't know why exactly, but it was like she could talk about anything to her teacher, and Ms. Wheaton wouldn't judge her for it. It wasn't that Stephanie didn't have friends – she did – but they just didn't understand. With the way Stephanie had grown up, despite the fact that she was only ten, she had been forced to grow up far quicker than the rest of her classmates.

"I have a martial arts tournament this weekend, and then after that I have to test for my black belt. There's supposed to be this other guy that's going to the same tournament, from Central I think, but it's really huge and he's supposed to be really good. It's kinda scary, but I think I'll do okay. I took down a really big guy last time, man he was like a giant or something, but I think he was older than me too, but they all hit the floor just the same."

One thing about Stephanie was that she was rarely quiet unless she had something on her mind, but being talkative helped to give her a release without taking it out on people. Although she wouldn't mind taking it out on some of the criminals out there, but that was for people like Batman and Robin, not a ten-year old girl like her.

"I'm sure you'll do great. I'll make sure to be there." Ms. Wheaton smiled and Stephanie felt a small measure of comfort.

At least someone would be there to root her on.

***

Kids were not the nicest people in the world, especially when it came to each other. They could be very cruel when they wanted to, and sometimes the older ones were the worst. It didn't help that sometimes they were right, even when it hurt to think it. One such instance occurred a few days after Stephanie's father was arrested. _Again_. Sent to Blackgate prison where he had escaped only a few weeks prior. He had left one too many clues and had attempted to rob Gotham National Bank. Attempted was the key because his plan had had so many holes in it that the authorities were able to take him down pretty easily and once again put him back in jail. Stephanie wouldn't be surprised if he escaped again; something he was always keen on attempting.

This didn't make it any easier at school. It wasn't that Stephanie didn't have a few friends – she did. It was just that everyone else knew exactly who and what her father was, the loser that he was, and made sure they told her every day.

Stephanie was at recess, sitting on a swing, letting it move back and forth, dragging her toes in the dirt. Wearing jeans and a black T-shirt, she almost wished she had worn a longer shirt, for the weather had taken a turn for the cooler. A light breeze swept through the playground, carrying the sounds of laughing children, but Stephanie was not among them. She watched as some played with a football, others played a game of Tag, and a few others were batting around a ball. Stephanie preferred being alone, and some might have seen her as quiet, but once they got to know her they would realize just how talkative she could be. It was just that she didn't have anything to talk about with the other kids, so she didn't. When she was with her gymnastics team and at her martial arts school she could chat up a storm, but she liked those people and they never treated her like she was a loser just like her father.

"Hey, look who it is! Stephanie Brown! Your dad in jail again?" a laughing male voice called in her direction. Stephanie ignored it, looking towards a different point on the playground.

"Haha, the loser! Batman doesn't even waste his time! How's your daddy's jail cell? Worn out yet?" another male voice taunted.

Stephanie still refused to look at them, biting her lip so hard that it bled. She could taste the iron in her mouth as she set her features in an impassive expression, refusing to let them bait her on. They were a group of older boys and girls, ones from a few grades higher than her, and part of a crowd that seemed to grow larger and larger. It never failed that every day they reminded her of what kind of loser her dad was and that she was going to be just like him. It made her hate her dad even more. He was ruining her life! Didn't he have any idea on how the stupid things he did affected her, her mom, everything? Stephanie felt a burning in the corners of her eyes as she squeezed her hands around the chains of the swing she sat upon, ignoring the painful bite of the metal into her palms. It wasn't fair. Why wouldn't they just leave her alone?

"Oooh look! She's gonna cry!" laughed a female voice, and the rest of the group chimed in with their own laughter. The voices were closer now and Stephanie could see the shadows of their figures as they gathered around her.

"Bet her mom takes all those drugs cuz she can't face how pathetic they are," sneered a male voice.

"Mommy and Daddy not here to bail you out? Oh wait, cuz he's locked up and she's doped up!" They all laughed at that one and Stephanie had just about had it.

"SHUT UP!" she suddenly burst out with a cry, leaping to her feet and finally facing them: three seventh-grade boys and one sixth-grade girl. They stared at her wide-eyed for a moment, obviously not expecting her to actually burst out, and then they began laughing.

"You got her riled up Jesse! Watch out!" laughed the girl, and the other boys grinned, suddenly appearing confident again.

"Bet she can't even fight, probably stole the red belt, just like her daddy would!" taunted one of the boys, a dark-haired individual with glasses.

"Except he'd get caught like the loser he is!"

Stephanie was a good foot and a half shorter than the others, being small for her age, and at least half their size in width due to not always eating a full meal. However that didn't faze her, and as she stood there glaring at them, the rage and hurt that had been building up for so long was about to come out full force. They deserved to be taught a lesson, and it was about time. She had heard, time and time again, that if she just ignored the people who taunted her they would go away, but they never did. Stephanie was beginning to get sick of it, and she hated how low they made her feel, how miserable she constantly was. She found she didn't care if a teacher saw her at this point. It didn't matter that all her martial arts training taught her to remain calm and not use force unless absolutely necessary. All that mattered was that they paid for what they said to her.

She found her center, and then proceeded to literally knock sense into the four other kids. She kicked the largest guy in his most sensitive area, causing him to cry out and double over in pain. Then she ducked a swing from one of the other boys, landing a roundhouse right cross, her signature move, knocking him to the ground. The other boy grabbed her around the throat, pressing his arm against her windpipe, and she saw stars briefly. However she used his arm as leverage, digging her fingers into the pressure points there and hoisting herself up, kicking the first boy in the face and sending him to the ground as well. The third boy released his hold on her and Stephanie dropped to the ground, aiming a punch towards his face. He managed to get a good punch in himself and she felt the side of her face explode in a brief shower of pain, mentally noting she'd probably have a black eye after that. Stephanie didn't let it faze her, however, and leapt up, landing a spinning roundhouse kick along the side of his head, making him drop like a sack of potatoes. The girl had screamed and fled since then, resulting in several teachers running over, shouting for them to stop fighting. One boy was holding a bloody nose, another was unconscious, and the third had attempted to grab her hair, but she had elbowed him in the face, causing him to yell out and grab his nose which had begun to bleed. Even as the teachers reached them, pulling them apart, Stephanie couldn't help but smirk because she had taught them a good lesson: never mess with Stephanie Brown.

***

Stephanie sat outside the principal's office after the recess incident with a healing split lip and holding an icepack to her blackening eye. She knew the taunting wouldn't ever really stop, but at least those four would leave her alone for awhile. She hoped so anyways.

"Stephanie?" She looked up to see Ms. Wheaton crouching down in front of her, concern apparent in her rounded features. Stephanie's teacher winced. "Is it painful?"

"Not that bad," stated Stephanie, wincing a little as her cut lip twitched. She continued to press the ice to her eye.

"What were you thinking, silly? Taking on those older boys?"

"They made fun of me." Stephanie frowned, almost a pout, and looked at the ground. "They made me mad."

"You know that it's just going to make them come back for more, don't you?" Ms. Wheaton moved to sit down next to Stephanie, reaching over and touching her fingers to the underneath of Stephanie's chin. She lifted Stephanie's face ever so slightly, examining the cut lip, and then meeting Stephanie's gaze. "You shouldn't fight. It's not the answer."

Stephanie pulled her face away from Ms. Wheaton's hand, looking at no specific spot in the hallway. "It's my dad's fault," she said angrily, scowling a little, but wincing when the scowl caused a brief flicker of pain across her face. "They called me a loser. Just like him. I hate him!"

"Honey, don't say things like that. What your dad does is his choice. Not yours. You're not like your dad. I have faith in you."

"What do you know? Your dad isn't in jail all the time." Stephanie threw an angry glance at Ms. Wheaton. She knew she shouldn't take it out on her teacher, but she was just so angry.

Ms. Wheaton reached over and placed a hand on Stephanie's shoulder. "No, I don't know what it's like," she said gently, "but I do know that you have a choice. You can do the right thing. Be different than him."

Stephanie was about to reply when an angry voice burst into their conversation. "And what do you think you were trying to pull young lady? Don't you realize how busy I am? You're taking me away from work, and if I don't work, you don't eat." Stephanie glanced up to see her mom standing in the hallway, dressed in her nurse outfit, hands on her hips. Her mom usually wasn't angry, just impassive to most things, but it was probably due to her mom running out of meds the night before. She always got angrier when she didn't have the meds she wanted, and thus always seemed to take it out on Stephanie. Ms. Wheaton went to say something but Stephanie's mom held up her hand, scowling at Stephanie's teacher. "She's my daughter, don't try to mother her." Stephanie's mom walked over and grabbed Stephanie by her arm, hauling her up off her feet. "Now let's go see the principal, missy. You've got a lot of explaining to do." Her mom pulled her towards the principal's office, not allowing Stephanie to protest. Stephanie glanced back at Ms. Wheaton, who looked upset and concerned, and then Stephanie looked away in resignation. It was better to let her mom blow off the steam than protest. For now. At least she knew she could count on her teacher.

***

A few weeks later, everything would change.

Stephanie had done will in the tournament, securing second place, and had competed in a regional gymnastics tournament the previous week where she had won first place in her division. She would be moving on to the nationals in a few months, something that both thrilled and scared her. It would be the first time she had competed at such a high level, but she had the support of her teammates and her coach who helped it not be quite as scary. She had passed her test for her black belt and was now working towards the next level. Her birthday, of course, had gone unnoticed by either parent, and while it stung that they had both forgotten, she was starting to develop a more uncaring attitude. Sure, it hurt, and she didn't understand why they wouldn't care, but the more she dwelled on it, the worse she felt, and she'd rather focus on the better things. Call her an optimist, but even at ten years old she had had to learn the hard way. Presently, her father was still in jail, once again putting more strain on her mother to take her to her practices, on top of working. Her mother had actually asked her to pick up more pills the other night and then realized that Stephanie was too young and had gone herself. It was as if her life was on a downward spiral and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

This was later reinforced when Stephanie was standing near the bus stop by her school, waiting to go home for the day. She was minding her own business, focusing on the dark-blue strings of her tennis shoes, wondering when she was going to get new ones, when a distinctive 'pop! Pop!' sound erupted not far from where she stood. Then there was screaming, the sounds of a car peeling away, the screech of its tires almost drowning out the screams, and then more yelling and screaming. Stephanie whirled to face what had happened, turning back to her school where a large crowd had gathered around the concrete path that led up to the front steps of the school. Stephanie immediately ran towards the crowd, pushing her way through the adults, managing to squeeze her way through smaller spaces due to her size. She burst out into the center, staggering to a halt, and stared down at the body of Ms. Wheaton, blood already starting to pool in places it shouldn't be pooling.

People were talking around her, some were trying to stop the bleeding, and someone called for 911, but Stephanie wasn't paying attention to any of it. She could only stand there horrified, her blue eyes wide, and her heart catching in her throat. Her insides twisted in all different ways, making her suddenly feel very sick to her stomach. She didn't understand what had happened, only that her favorite teacher lay there and could quite possibly be dead. Someone said something about a drive by shooter; that Ms. Wheaton had protected a group of kids, but it was at the far reaches of Stephanie's mind, the whole world of sound seemingly a dull roar, time moving by ever so slowly. Stephanie felt a mixture of emotions including horror, fear, sadness, and then finally anger. The anger she directed towards whoever had done this. She wanted to make them pay for hurting someone who would never hurt anyone. She wanted them to feel the pain, and wished somehow she could fulfill those desires. She just didn't know how. Where was Batman now? Where were the heroes that were supposed to save people like her teacher?

Someone took her by her shoulders, gently guiding her away from where Ms. Wheaton lay, and moving Stephanie to where the teachers had gathered the other children. Stephanie felt as though she was watching everything happen from outside her body, no longer in control of her own limbs, and in a state of mind where she couldn't even speak. So many questions ran through her mind, but there were no answers. Some of the other kids were crying, some were just staring towards the crowd, and others were huddled against other teachers. Stephanie stood by herself, not wanting anyone to comfort her or touch her. She just stared at the crowd of people, as the sirens from an ambulance filled the air, and the air stilled as if no breeze could break through the trauma of what had just occurred.

She now felt truly, and utterly alone.

* * *

_**Thank you for reading!  
**_

_**I'd love to see what you thought :)**_

_**Next chapter will involve when she actually finally becomes Spoiler.  
**_


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